


All Sales are Final

by ATouchOfHeavenlyLight



Series: Surprise [5]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Bingo Card Five, F/F, Fluff, Mirandy Year of Fun & Frolics, Writers Bingo, sharing elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATouchOfHeavenlyLight/pseuds/ATouchOfHeavenlyLight
Summary: Just your average day, in the life of one Tobias Andrew Priestly-Sachs. Well maybe not so average—today is the final hearing regarding Andy’s efforts to adopt her and Miranda’s adorable, rabble rousing baby boy.





	All Sales are Final

**Author's Note:**

> for bingo card 5: sharing elevator.  
> lol forgive the kid speak, I tried my best.

A resounding crash woke the Priestly-Sachs household at 6:53 on a Wednesday morning.

“Andrea. do see that your son is still intact, will you?”

Andy groaned. “Why’s he my son when there’s an alarming sound?”

“Andrea, I was never quite so destructive or adventurous as a child, he most assuredly gets it from you.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go see what the little hellion’s up to.”

Andy rose from their bed with a yawn, stretching as she headed for the door, quick to grab her ‘mom-robe’ off the door hook and threw it on as she lumbered down the stairs.

Into the kitchen.

Or what was left of it, anyway.

“Tobias Andrew Priestly-Sachs,” she reprimanded in tones of incredulity, hands on her hips. “What in the world?”

Jesus. Cabinets and drawers were all open, the silverware drawer pulled completely out, sitting on the floor with its contents spilt everywhere, the Microwave info panel had some sort of error message she thought, gliding across the screen in Chinese, and then there was the fridge.

Both doors were wide open, half the contents missing from the right hand side—jars of pickles, mayonnaise, and jam had been sent crashing to the floor along with a jug of seemingly intact orange juice.

And in the middle of it all—standing on the lip of the freezer drawer, pudgy hands digging into a now open jar of applesauce laying on its side on the shelf,  was one Mister Tobias Priestly-Sachs, clad in the footless onesie he’d been put to bed in, with one sock his right foot, and the other only God knows where.

“Appsauce mama. Appsauce!” 

“Toby, I love you baby, really I do but how? Why? How is this even happening right now everything was locked.”

And every single white plastic child lock was on the floor, Andy discovered when she went to collect her son from his precarious perch in their fridge. He squealed and laughed when she whisked him into the air and set him down on the counter, hands still clutching the applesauce jar. “Young man. What is Toby supposed to do when he wakes up hungry?”

“Get mommies.”

“Yes, and why didn’t Toby get mommies?”

“Appsauce.”

“Mommies could have given you applesauce.”

“Locks.”

“Are there for a reason, mommies open the locks.”

“I open the locks.”

Andy crouched down and picked up one of the cast aside locks, re-locked it, and held it out for her son to take.

Toby pulled his grabby hand from the applesauce jar and licked it clean before taking the lock, and somehow, some way, because God did not want there to be peace in the house of Priestly, his tiny toddler fingers were able to pinch and pull and pop went the lock. 

“We’re going to have to invest in Masterlocks, aren’t we?”

Toby giggled and shook his head, and Andy had the sinking feeling that they could chain and padlock every cabinet in the house and put a security guard on the fridge and they would wake up to everything open and the guard out cold, all at the hands of a kid that couldn’t even say applesauce.

She confiscated the applesauce, put everything intact back into the fridge and the rest carefully discarded in the trash. She bathed and changed her sticky son, before situating him in his high chair with a bowl of cheerios. Dry. He was going to eat them with his hands, spoons were a foreign concept to him, he always stuck them in his pocket or down his shirt or in his diaper—spoons were fashion accessories and Andy made sure Miranda knew that was 100% on the Fashion Editor.

Closing the drawers and cabinets didn’t take much time, though Toby learned a rather unfortunate bad word when mama slammed her thumb in the silverware drawer, trying too hard to push it back into place. The microwave was just going to read in Chinese now, there was no coming back from that.

By the time her son was clean, fed, re-cleaned, and used the potty on his own like a big boy, it was 8am and Andy was flopping back into bed with her wife, mumbling an incoherent summary of their morning adventure. 

“Your son’s an evil genius. We’re suing whoever childproofed the kitchen.”

Miranda hummed in agreement. “Mmm. We’ll take Emily and Serena for all they’re worth.” 

They woke up an hour later when the alarm clock went off, to Toby sitting in between his mommies, in his pull-ups, one sock on his left foot, eating from a jar of applesauce.

“Tobias, sweetheart,” Miranda groaned.

Toby smiled at his mother and then loudly proclaimed, “Fuck!” 

“ _ Andrea Sachs _ !”

___________________

 

Toby was fed, painstakingly cleaned, and dressed in the most adorable little suit that he was to most definitely not to get dirty. He was surprisingly good about that—all his other clothes could go straight into the mud after two seconds of wear time but put the kid in a suit and suddenly he was a suave gentleman, with no time for the sandbox, he spends his days reading poetry and drinking wine.

Well. Dr. Seuss and grape juice.

And now he was sitting between his mommies on a pew in a small Family courtroom and dozing off—with no surprise, the kid had been living his best life since the crack of dawn. It was likely for the best, Andy wasn’t positive his pinky-promise to never ever  _ ever _ say mama’s bad word ever again would hold, and today it was beyond important for Andy’s parenting skills to hold water.

“Miranda-”

“They’re going to say yes.”

“But what if Stephen-”

“He’s renounced all parental obligation.”

“Maybe we should have reached out and informed him ourselves just…like…for politeness sake. What if he shows up and causes a scene?”

“Andrea, Stephen wouldn’t so much as acknowledge Tobias if he were standing in front of him on fire. He may take out an article in  _ Page Six _ , but Tobias can hardly read at the third grade level yet can he?”

Caroline, seated next to Miranda, snorted at her mother’s jibe.

“Relax mom,” Cassidy said to Andy, sitting on by the brunette as she stared listlessly into her phone. Though she did look up at her then, “everything’s going to be fine.”

“All rise!”

At the Bailiff’s declaration, the Priestly-Sachs family rose to their feet, Andy hoisting a sleeping Toby up onto her hip as Judge Hamilton took her seat at the bench.

“Please be seated,” Judge Hamilton said.

Andy could practically feel how hard Miranda was restraining herself from rolling her eyes. she did not particularly care for courtroom proceedings, especially being told to ‘sit and roll over like a dog’.

“These proceedings today are to decide upon the application for adoption of a spouse’s child, filed by Mrs. Andrea Sachs, to hold parental guardianship over Mr. Tobias Priestly-Sachs,” Judge Hamilton said. “I have reviewed the application carefully, along with Tobias’s child custody case file from 2008. I found the decision rather an easy one to make, and I’m proud to live in a day and age where it can be made. Stephen James relinquished all parental ties leaving little room for any sort of objection. Mrs. Sachs has been present in Tobias’s life since before his birth and continues to be a positive and active influence in his upbringing.”

Except for dropping a major F-bomb in front of the kid this morning, yeah. But “Snickerdoodles! That really hurt!” didn’t roll off the tongue quite so well when you weren’t sure when your lost thumb would return from war. The silverware drawer war.

“Are there any objections?” Judge Hamilton asked the mostly empty courtroom. It was literally just Miranda, Andy, and their three children aside from the court clerk and bailiff. But still, she had to ask—when she was unsurprisingly met with silence, Judge Hamilton leveled the Priestly-Sachs family a joyful smile. “Then I’m pleased to grant Andrea Sachs full parental guardianship over Tobias Andrew Priestly-Sachs,” she banged her gavel against the sound block. “Court is adjourned.”

Miranda and Andy shot to their feet, hugging each other as tightly as possible with Toby still half-asleep sitting on Andy’s hip, ending up sandwiched between Caroline and Cassidy joining in on their family hug. The loud  _ bang  _ of the gavel and the sound of his mothers’ and sisters’ excitement woke the boy and he yawned before cheerily calling out, “Fuck?”

“-s, are his favorite animals!” Andy covered nervously as she looked to Judge Hamilton, half-risen from the bench. “Ducks. He has a lisp. We’re working on it.” 

But Judge Hamilton’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter and she bit her lip before saying, “See that you do. Have a wonderful rest of your day. Congratulations.”

“We did it buddy!” Andy enthused as she put both arms around her son—her son!—and rocked him back and forth.

“Ice cream?” Cassidy proposed.

“Ohh yeah, lets go to that place on 17 th with the soft serve.”

“Ice cream!” Toby agreed.

“Okay, okay,” Andy said as their family made their way out of the courtroom.

“Ice cream it is,” Miranda agreed.

As soon as they reached the hall, Toby squirmed in Andy’s arms to be let down.

“I wanna push the butt!” he cried out as soon as his feet hit the floor, and he raced to the elevator, slamming his hand against the down button.

“Oh my God, I’ve got 30 days to return him right?” Andy joked.

“Oh no Andrea, I quite assure you, all sales are final.”

“You’re stuck with us!” the twins chorused as the elevator doors parted and Andy snatched up Toby again before his cries of “Butts! I wanna push the butts!” ensued. 

“Okay little guy hit the 1 button,” Andy said.

He hit all the buttons. Tobias Andrew Priestly-Sachs raked his little hands down the entire set of floor buttons from top to bottom in the time it took most people to bat an eye. 

“Tobias that is incredibly counter intuitive to getting ice cream,” Miranda assured him.

“Well, I guess I really am stuck with you guys, huh?”

Miranda smiled, and put her arm around her wife. “You are indeed.”


End file.
